


Acta Non Verba

by brevitas



Series: Leader of the Muses [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Greek Gods AU, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Artemis spreads the news and the Amis set up a date, unbeknownst to Grantaire and Enjolras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acta Non Verba

Gavroche collects the Amis the only way he knows how; with a great deal of creativity.

It's not like all of them are willing to drop what they're going just because Eponine summons (now if it had been Enjolras behind the herald, that would be a different story) so Gavroche cracks his knuckles before he sets off. He begs, guilts, inspires and just plain asks where it's called for; Gavroche has been Hermes since his conception, and he knows these gods like the back of his hand.

Some of them he has to hunt down (because gods can answer to their names, sure, but that doesn't mean they will), so he gives himself a time limit of four hours and tells everybody it starts at two.

He's down to Bahorel, Feuilly, Bossuet, Cosette if he has the good luck to run into her (but she's not necessarily a part of the Amis, and while she's happy to sit in on the boys her attendance is not mandatory) and Musichetta (she practically never comes but like Cosette, it's polite to ask if he sees her). He tracks Bossuet to Landes forest and heaves a grand sigh when he sees its length. He's hovering a few feet above the ground, the wings at his heels flapping furiously to keep him afloat, and thinks that he might need to give Eponine the heads-up that he's never finding Bossuet.

He decides that just yelling his name is worth a try and bellows, "Pan!" expecting no reply but the startled flight of a few birds.

"What?" Bossuet materializes in front of him with a cocked eyebrow, plucking a few leaves out of his dark hair, and makes Gavroche jump. He dips in his surprise and his toes brush the ground.

"Eponine is calling a meeting," he says when he's breathing again, hovering high enough that their heads are even despite their height difference. Bossuet shrugs, crushing a twig between his fingers. All he asks is, "Is Joly going?" and Gavroche is quick to nod.

"Fine," he says, grins a bit at Gavroche's enthusiasm when he chirps, "Thanks!" He tells Bossuet firmly that it's at two, reminds him not to lose track of time out here in the woods, and ducks when he playfully smacks at him.

He heads to Paris next because he knows Bahorel has a soft spot for their bars; it seems like every time he comes back from France he's sporting a new bruise and a story about some jackass he got in a fight with. He thrives on the violence and Feuilly is the only one that can ever seem to reign him in, so Gavroche crosses his fingers on finding them together.

For once his good luck pans out--the first bar he checks hosts Bahorel at the counter, nursing a shot of whiskey and a black eye. He's laughing and he has a woman all over him, one hand curled in his shirt, a face buried against his throat. Gavroche pauses at the door when he realizes that the curly-haired stranger nuzzled into Ares' neck is not a woman at all but Feuilly, and coughs.

Feuilly looks up immediately, blinks at Gavroche but doesn't try to excuse them; all he asks is, "How the hell did you find us?" Bahorel turns too, a hickey blooming under his jaw.

"'lo, little lovebirds!" He calls and comes over to them, grinning. He's changed his clothes for the mortals and looks like any other normal little boy off the street, the only strange thing being the intricate black wing designs on the sides of his tennis shoes. "I just thought all that talk about you guys were rumors."

Bahorel snorts and presses a bag of frozen peas to his swollen face, leans over and ruffles Feuilly's hair. It's less like they're boyfriends and more like they're lovers, but Gavroche doesn't mention the longing in Feuilly's eyes and Hephaestus gives him a slight nod in thanks for it. _Lotsa one-sided relationships on Olympus these days_ , he thinks dryly, then claps his hands together.

"So I actually have a reason to be here," he tells them, and Bahorel snipes something like, "Thank god," and is dutifully ignored by Feuilly. "Eponine is asking for a meeting. She was real excited when she brought it up and I think it's something important." He shrugs. "Or like, interesting, at least."

Feuilly takes Bahorel's shot and throws it back, licks his lips when he says, "We'll be there." He vouches for Bahorel without thinking but Gavroche, who sees more than people realize, notices that Bahorel has no complaints about it. He poorly disguises a laugh in a cough and thinks if these gods were just a little more honest there'd be quite a few couples up top.

"Well," he says as he executes a bow and retreats a few steps towards the door. "You guys were my last so I've gotta tell Eponine we're all green for go." He gives them a mock salute and adds, "And it's at two," while he ducks outside.

He's planning on strolling a ways through Paris before going home and buys a hot dog, eating it while he walks. He knows with only a few glances around why Combeferre is so loathe to visit Earth; up on Olympus it's easy to separate himself from the woes of the mortals but down here, amongst them, there's no way his vengeance could sit idle.

Gavroche stops and is watching a street performer when he feels the tickle of another god's presence across the back of his neck; it's a sly thing, and a skill he's long-since perfected. He looks around subtly, takes another bite of his hot dog, and spots Cosette to his left.

Cosette comes down to Earth often; she's almost as involved with the mortals as Courfeyrac is, and frequently the two love gods work hand-in-hand. But Eros is nowhere near her and she seems to be talking animatedly with a different man, a stranger; a _mortal_. Gavroche hums as he licks mustard off his bottom lip and sidles closer, making sure to keep a few people between them.

She bends down to give the man a few coins and the musician thanks her heartily; the mortal watches her with a dazed expression that is not uncommon. Cosette is beautiful, and dressed as she is, all in pale colors and a flowing skirt and delicate heels, Gavroche is not surprised to find the man looking a bit woozy on his feet.

She takes his hand when she straightens and smiles sweetly at his blush, tugging him to follow. "He was a lovely fellow, don't you think, Marius?" He trails after her, helpless, and nods, offers some commentary on his skill as an artist.

Gavroche watches them curiously, popping the last bite of the meal into his mouth and sucking his fingers clean; they turn the corner and for now he lets it go, promising himself to change it into a better story later (and he's sure everyone will want to hear--Cosette finds great meaning in guiding people to true love but she's never partaken in it herself before, always said confidently that one day she would find the right man but he just hadn't shown up yet).

He returns to Olympus before he can stumble on any more secrets and finds Eponine in the front foyer, pacing. She's chain-smoking, as she's taken to doing when she's nervous, and Gavroche waves smoke away as he approaches. "Everyone's good to go," he says, accepts her mumbled thanks with a gracious nod. He circles her for a few more minutes, drifting lazily through the air, and eventually she catches on and frowns as she puts out the cigarette.

"Did something happen?" She asks warily.

Gavroche grins. "No, ma'am," he says cheekily, knowing she hates it when he calls her that ("We're not even that far apart in age"), "Just wanted to tell you a secret."

She slits her eyes at him and longs for another cigarette. "About who?" Eponine knows gossip is beneath her, has been told a thousand times before courtesy of her brother the same fact, and feels a momentary wash of guilt before she pushes it away. Gossip can achieve great things, she thinks. And Gavroche always has the best.

"I saw Cosette with a mortal boy." He does not disappoint. Eponine coughs and decides on that second cigarette after all.

+++++

She's leeched all the information she can from Gavroche, simply drained him dry, and thanks him again before she heads to the meeting herself. She keeps thinking about Cosette and her mortal lad and wonders how handsome he is (Gavroche said he was pied with freckles and had kind eyes, but when pressed for further details complained, "I ain't no girl to admire the boys"). 

She finds the Amis have gathered and are talking amongst themselves, seated around the long oak table in one of the many dining halls the palace offers. This one in particular is one of their favorites, sporting a wallpaper that is such an atrocious shade of pink that not even Cosette's excellent lighting and furniture choices could lessen the ugliness of the room. The Amis have met here since they formed, flocking around Enjolras' heels like motherless lambs, and consider it their den when no other room is named.

Gavroche had failed to mention Bahorel and Feuilly to her and she doesn't notice how close together they're sitting or the way Feuilly sighs as he runs a hair-thin net across his fingers to test for flaws almost as though he wished he was doing something else with his hands.

It's Courfeyrac who spots her first, sitting atop the table, his long legs draped over the side. "Hey, Ponine," he greets and points at the chair by his feet. He waits for her to sit down before he asks curiously, "So what's this about?"

It's not unheard of for Eponine to call meetings, but usually it's in her brother's stead and always with his blessing. This is the first time that the call came directly from her, and all the Amis have noticed.

"Enjolras stole Grantaire's painting," she says, and gives them a moment so the comments will die down. "Yes, it's a painting of himself, and no--it's not a dirty one."

"Wow," Courfeyrac says, whistles when he prods Jehan with his toes. "I told you something was up this morning."

She nods and goes for a third cigarette, ignoring the worried frown Joly gives her. Her fingers are restless when she lights it but she seems to calm after the first exhale. "I think we need to come up with a plan--a plan to help these two dorks figure out what's between them."

This is Courfeyrac's specialty (well actually, erotic love is, but he'll take what he can get) and he looks appropriately enthused. All the suggestions he makes are terrible ones, with the crown of the list being, "Start a riot in America and make Grantaire go down there to save some poor kid; Enjolras gets a boner just from _imagining_ heroics, I can't fathom what he'd do when he saw that curly fuck carrying a toddler away from tear gas with like the national anthem playing in the background." Bahorel snorts and tells Courfeyrac blandly that he should never fall in love because he's terrible at the first step, and Bossuet helpfully points out that real life is not a movie set.

They're back at square one and everyone is trying to think of how to do this without being glaringly obvious when Jehan says quietly, "Maybe we should do a movie night." Everyone looks at him so he continues. "We could tell them that there's one happening tonight and then bow out at the last minute. Grantaire likes movies anyway, and Enjolras has too good of manners to excuse himself after he's already agreed to come."

Combeferre is the first to tell Jehan he's a natural, and they all quickly agree. A plan is hashed out and plausible excuses are formulated; most of the Amis will peel off in couples so Enjolras' suspicion is not roused, and they double-check stories to make sure cross-examination won't catch them unaware. It takes an hour and a half before they're satisfied and they send Jehan to tell Grantaire and Combeferre to tell Enjolras.

The poet returns in ten minutes, reporting with a small smile that Grantaire has agreed to come, "So long as it isn't no hippy shit." It takes longer for Enjolras to give in and Combeferre trudges back an hour later, a warm laptop tucked under one arm. "Sorry." He sits down again with a sigh and it's obvious it took so long because Apollo wouldn't listen to the movie suggestion until after they'd collaborated some ideas about the Egyptian revolution, but he's smiling all the same. "Enjolras agreed too."

The movie is supposedly going to start at eight, and is a random selection off Netflix that Courfeyrac preps (on second thought, they should have sent someone else, because apparently he's picked a movie called 'The Big Gay Musical' and stubbornly says they don't have time to go change it) and then the excuses start cropping up. They give their apologies to Enjolras in his quarters, who's already running late, and Grantaire wanders into the family room a few minutes early with a beer and a qurked eyebrow when he sees the empty couch.

He flops down anyway, stretching his legs out, and only has to wait another ten minutes before Enjolras arrives. "Sorry," he says as he breezes in, sitting down beside him. The sofa is long enough that another person could easily sit between them, and Grantaire notices the distance but doesn't say anything (at this point, he's not drunk enough to pick a fight). "Everyone else got called away."

Grantaire snorts and settles back into the cushion, and knowing better than to try and keep it tosses the remote to Enjolras. "I find that hard to believe," he drawls, and Enjolras shrugs. "They said they'd join us if they finished early enough."

He accepts this with no more complaints and then says, "Courfeyrac picked the movie; you might want to find another one." The screenshot is plastered across the television and involves a lot of pink and men holding hands, and even without the glittering title Grantaire is pretty sure he'd be able to peg it as an Eros' selection in his sleep.

Enjolras looks it over and laughs, backing out to the dash, but not before he says casually, "It didn't look half-bad to me."

Grantaire is staring at him and he knows it but he can't seem to stop and Enjolras laughs again instead of saying anything, scrolling heedlessly down to the thrillers.

**Author's Note:**

> ah sorry guys I kind of lied to you and this chapter is barely about e/r at all; I got a little carried away with Gavroche, and I wanted to kickstart Marius/Cosette/Eponine so yeah, forgive me!
> 
> I'll make it up to you next time, I swear; the next chapter is seriously JUST going to be Grantaire and Enjolras on their forced/kind of date which will hopefully be awkward and hilarious
> 
> uh, no notes for this one I guess, except for I love all of you? and don't hate me too bad for no e/r I'm sorry I'll try to get the next chapter up asap to soothe you all, the only thing I have planned for this weekend is studying for Linguistics anyway so psh
> 
> title means "action not words"
> 
> and if you want to follow my tumblr is; http://idfaciendumest.tumblr.com


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